“Good, good.”
When it was Knight’s turn to acknowledge me, and all eyes were on us, he tilted his chin up in hello. He didn’t take a second look at my dress, or my made-up face, or my dolled-up hair. Just gave me a nonchalant wink and moved to the port, helping himself to a generous glass. The blush on his cheeks indicated he’d already slipped a shot or four before they’d arrived. He wore a white V-neck shirt, a navy blue blazer, and camel-hued skinny jeans, his hair a delicious, unkempt mess. He was thumbing his phone, not really paying attention to anyone, uncharacteristically distant.
Vaughn, who now stood next to me, looked between us and cleared his throat, silently asking what the hell was going on. Knight scratched his eyebrow, tossing his phone in the air and catching it with precise speed and accuracy.
“Anything to share?” Vaughn grumbled.
Knight threw his entire drink down his throat when our parents weren’t looking, clucking his tongue with a devilish smirk. “Sorry, not into sharing. You never know where shit’s been, you know?”
Vaughn whistled low, looking between us. “And so, the little innocent creature has fangs. The plot thickens.”
I swallowed.
Knight grinned. “Someone’s thick here, all right, but it’s got nothing to do with the plot.”
“You’re butthurt,” Vaughn mused.
“Nah. The only butts in danger of hurting are the ones I’ll be plowing into when we go to Arabella’s party after this boring dinner.” Knight spat out the word boring like I was the one who made it so.
I could feel my anger climbing up my toes, making every cell in my body burn. Arabella? What about Poppy? I wanted to yell my lungs out, but settled for flashing the boys a dazzling, I-don’t-give-a-damn smile, not wanting to cause a scene.
My fury reached another peak when we’d sat at the long dinner table, with brown, hand-decorated china, personal pumpkins painted by Lev and Bailey, yellow candles and handmade napkins sewn with real threads of gold. Everybody was chatting, laughing, and drinking warm cider and wine, enjoying their butter-roasted turkey. Knight sat next to me, probably because he knew he’d be bombarded with concerned questions if he didn’t, and continued texting under the table, taking no part in the conversation.
“Put the phone down, son,” Dean said at one point, and Knight didn’t even look up from the screen.
Dean put his glass of water on the table—he never drank alcohol—and looked directly at Knight with the familiar intensity of a man who could set the sky ablaze.
“Honey,” Rosie tried, dabbing a napkin at the sides of her mouth.
This time, Knight did look up, tucking his phone in his front pocket. It was one of the things I loved about Knight the most. He was respectful and loving to his mother.
“Sorry, Ma.”
“Sorry sounds right,” Dean muttered into his forkful of white asparagus.
“I agree. Sounds are awesome. I love sounds.” Knight threw his arms in the air, digging into his food all of a sudden like he’d been starving for days. I shrank into my seat next to him, staring at my meal like it was going to help me if I begged it hard enough with my eyes. I had a lot to say to Knight, but I couldn’t do it at the table.
“Do you have anything to say?” Edie, with her no-bullshit approach, speared Knight with a look, her utensils clattering to her plate.
“Plenty, Mrs. Rexroth. I have plenty of things to say,” he chirped.
I knew, even though he could hide the signs from others, he was drunk. Again. Knight had always been careful with alcohol, at least up until Vaughn’s party, so this was alarming.
Then again, I hadn’t been here for a few months. Maybe this was his new normal?
“You’re walking on thin ice,” Dean warned in front of all of us, which I knew would only push Knight over the edge. He was a carbon copy of his father. When pushed, he pressed harder.
Knight smiled, tossing a piece of roasted yam into his mouth and chewing. “I’ve been good at breaking things lately. One more layer isn’t going to make any difference.”
“Okay, now,” Emilia’s voice rang out over what was beginning to sound a lot like a fight between Knight and everyone else at the table. “Change of subject. Are you guys going to do something interesting before Luna goes back to college?” She looked between me, Knight, and Vaughn.
I wanted to die right there and then. Emilia obviously hadn’t paid attention to the general mood. Knight snorted out a laugh and shook his head. Frowning, I turned around to face him. I was reaching my tipping point, but I really, really, really didn’t want to ruin it for everyone else.
He surprised me by looking directly at me for the first time in four days.
My eyes told him to shut up.
Honestly? My mouth almost did, too.
“Oh, look. Luna’s puppy eyes. My favorite guilt trip.” He smirked, turning around and addressing the entire table. “To your question, Aunt Emilia, I’m not sure if I’m going to do something nice before Luna’s departure, but I sure as hell know Luna did something nice this past weekend. So nice, in fact, that her partner thanked her for the precious gift. She’s always been charitable, this one.”
I choked on my water, trying to cough out the liquid that slipped through the wrong pipe.
Now all the utensils at the table dropped in unison. Someone gasped. A chair scraped back, and I realized it was my father who’d stood up. Edie shot up right after him, clutching his shoulder in warning.